POOR ROBIN'S DREAM, OR THE VISIONS OF HELL: WITH A DIALOGUE Between the Two GHOSTS OF Dr. T. and Capt. B.  
LONDON: Printed by M.S. MDCLXXXI.   

POOR ROBIN'S DREAM, OR THE Visions of Hell.  

WHen th'charming News had passed Charing-Cross,  
And they deposed, that would dismount that Horse.  
The Senators their hated patience forced,  
As Thames once for Sempronia stopped her course.  
Like Boys that were just from a Vineyard scared,  
All stood amazed, but never a word was heard.  
But when they found they were pursued by none,  
But th' Master stood only to keep his own.  
They then unto their wont passion flew,  
And swore they'd prove those Grapes to be their due,  
Next time they came they'd have the Master too  
I'th' City. All their steady-Heads they tossed,  
Like Wives at Billingsgate, when a good Bargain's lost.  
Ballads of grief about the Town they sent,  
As if they lost a Loyal Parliament.  
Such clamorous Consternations, with false Cries,  
Enough to tear great Jove down from the Skies.  
None daring to confront those Factious Atheists,  
Dreading that scand'lous Name they call, Church-Papist.  
Then I e'en laid me down upon my Bed,  
Where sundry Contemplations seized my troubled Head.  
In a trembling Trance I on a sudden fell,  
Wherein I saw that damned Den called Hell.  
Where ten thousand Scenes, with Legions of black Fiends,  
Of burning Rebels, there they made their Skreens.  
Old Noll and Bradshaw, Ireton and Pride,  
Burning like Beacons; on the other side  
Then perjured Rogues, drawn up in arched Rings,  
Their Tongues like Serpents, showed their flaming Stings,  
Thought I, Is this the fruit of kill Kings?  
When that Scene changed, methought I clearly saw,  
A solemn Conventicle groan out yells of woe.  
Their Hats pinned to their heads with fiery Nails,  
Their Ears drawn out as large as Spanish Frails.  
Their Eyes like oval Lanterns; glowing Rolls,  
Or flaming Flambois, from their treacherous Souls.  
Their Mouths unto their ugly Ears were drawn,  
Spirits frothed out, like poisoned, foul Frog-spawn.  
Upon their Backs was writ in blood, I see,  
Damned for Rebellion and Hypocrisy.  
'Mongst this prodigious and confused throng,  
The Holder forth was called Dr. Tonge;  
Who so excelled, Hugh Peter being there▪  
That he was forced to fall into the Rear.  
Till interposed by a Champion stout,  
With flaming Sword made way through th' hellish Rout.   

B.  
And cried to T. thou damned Orator,  
Thou art the cause of my Soul burning here.   

T.  
Why what wast thou when first I did thee know?  
But one condemned for Robbery by the Law.   

B.  
Why what wast thou poor Fool in Forty one?  
But a poor Weaver than leapt from thy Loom.  
Then stepped into a Tub to preach Sedition,  
And took the Covenant for thy Commission.  
Which thou pursued till all the Rump was ruined,  
And Charles returned, and to his Right resumed.  
And then thou made a Breech of thy own Mouth,  
Swore back again, but never preached truth,  
And in thy Age, more treacherous, than in youth.   

T.  
That cannot be imputed perjury,  
To swear for those that rule by tyranny.  
Or for any else, as Times may turn by fits,  
That's but a knack of living by one's wits.  
But I ne'er robbed upon the King's Highway,  
Nor boasted on't unto my Friends next day.  
Nor I ne'er feigned myself to be a Lord,  
Nor pilfered Coin without the help of Sword,  
Nor ne'er was proved perjured by Record.   

B.  
Thou damned Hellhound, hast thou now forgot,  
Who was so active in the Popish Plot?  
'Twas thou that patched up O's Depositions,  
And then delivered them without Commissions.  
Which thou taught him pretend he had dispersed,  
Then thou thyself turned tails and was released.  
Yet still thou didst persevere in thy sin,  
Taught Tony and the rest to bring me in.  
To meet you at Cabals, and Foxes-hall,  
Where I received my Lessons from you all.  
You taught me what to speak, who to impeach,  
All loyalists you brought within my reach.  
Both Queen and Duke I to the Block must bring,  
Nay— had I lived, I must have peacht the K—  
Now who's the cause of my Soul's suffering?   

T.  
All this I own was truth, and ten times more,  
But thy black Soul was damned long before.  
Thou hadst committed Murder, Theft and Rape,  
So 'twas impossible thy Soul should 'scape.  
For hadst thou lived till each true string had twanged,  
Thou then hadst surely been both damned and hanged.   

B.  
Thou splay-mouthed Fiend, I hold thy words in scorn,  
Thou deserv'dst hanging long ere I was born.  
Thou and thy Brother Baxter, Spawns of evil,  
Who kept your correspondence with the Devil.  
And spewed your poison over Three brave Nations,  
And brought in Oats to all their desolations.  
The Devil taught you how to tutor Cooper,  
And Belzebub himself his Over-looker.  
One Paw upon the Tap holds in the Bong,  
The other guides his tottering Head and Tongue.  
And cries, My Tony thou shalt live to see  
England's destruction, and its Monarchy,  
And my chief Engine, Tony, thou shalt be.  
And of all the Plots and Sham-plots thou art Father,  
And all the Evidence thou'st patched together;  
For which Indulgence I'll inspire thee still,  
And thus the Devil helps old Machiavelli.   

T.  
Why? Tony was the cause of my Damnation,  
It was his malice that inflamed the Nation.  
'Twas He, under pretence of doing good,  
That squeezed poor Innocents', and broached their blood.  
'Twas He that made his Grace a stalking Horse,  
And hid himself behind his pocky Arse.  
'Twas he that taught Tub-Preachers to seduce  
The People, to choose Members for their use.  
Such as in the late Rebellion played their parts,  
And now are downright Rumpers in their hearts.  
To all the Olivarians that are living,  
His damned Documents he's daily giving.  
'Tis He that all the Rebels now controls,  
For fear they should repent and save their souls.  
Or rather that they may come boldly on,  
By force of Arms to end what he begun.  
Or else his Head must fly for what is past,  
And's Tap must burst, to show his soul is cursed.   

B.  
For Godfrey's death, 'twas thou persuaded me  
To come in guilty; that black Perjury  
Doth gnaw my soul in these infernal flames,  
That guiltless blood cries vengeance through my veins,  
And showers upon me in perpetual streams.  
I swore that of that Murder I did know  
A man, that in my life I never saw,  
Yet three men's Lives I took by perjured Law.   

T.  
Tony and Godfrey's Brother that contrived,  
To make the forged Plot the more believed.  
The truth of which they never yet would tell,  
Neither Oats, nor us that's now in Hell.  
If e'er that stifled Murder be unveiled,  
Old Tony's mouthing Gang will soon be quailed.  
And those Cabals which daily now devise,  
As th' old one dies, to make new Plots to rise.  
They'll then disperse, lest they all be trepanned,  
And their wise heads forsake their souls thats damned.   

B.  
Thou now speakest like a Subject when'ts too late,  
Or one that knew not what they would be at.  
'Tis their ambition to be thrown in Gaols,  
'Twould raise the Rout if Habeas Corpus fails.  
Then Tony'l grin and prog about for Coin,  
T'encourage his possessed herd of Swine.  
Lurk in his hole to see 'em stave and tail,  
But ne'er come out, till he finds who'll prevail.   

T.  
When he was young, he never durst to fight,  
But in malicious mischief took delight.  
For when the Nation flowed with blood before,  
Tony was always thirsting after more.  
How many thousand pound this Plot has cost him,  
To buy the bloods of those that never crossed him?  
When he has got poor Innocents' condemned,  
By his patched Evidence, how eagerly he'll send  
To those that have most interest in the Rout?  
He'll hire them t'come to force the Prisoners out,  
To see them sacrifice before his Snout.  
Which they'll soon do, or else break down their hold;  
For why, they're Tony's Cattle bought and sold?  
While they are butchering, old Tony flears,  
For more such Bargains, smells with both his ears.  
Tony hired Ar. for to cut's own Throat,  
Ar. was cunning, did but half the Joke.  
Yet kept his money, and remained his debtor,  
And promised him the Lives of some was better.  
Tho' Tony's sides have several teer of holes,  
He lusts after bodies, as the Devil after souls.  
For if e'er this trade of Papist-hanging's ended,  
He'll bring in Presbyter and Independent.  
Both Care and Curtis, Smith and pillored Ben,  
After the best, he'll hang the worst of men.  
All that his Pate hath drawn in to support him,  
He'll hang them all, if Fate do ever thwart him.  
Both Lords and Evidence that's now for him,  
Nay perhaps his Grace, who now he's making K—  
Or those who all this prosecution commence,  
He can hang them with the same Evidence.  
Should we have lived till such a Change broke forth,  
To save himself he would have hanged us both.  
He's such a Knave, and they such silly Elves,  
When he has a mind, he'll make'um hang themselves.   

B.  
Heart, Blood and Wounds, would he have hanged up Bedlow?  
Oh— that my Lady Mother did but know—  
That cursed Cannibal? had I lived two years longer,  
I'd have hanged him, that rotten damned Whoremonger.  
Let's out of Hell, the Porter we can bribe,  
We'll bring him Tony's soul, or some of that damned Tribe.  
We'll tell the K— that Tony is the cause  
Of all this plotting, and subverting Laws.  
That Tony is so treacherous and so apish,  
That he's the head of all the plotting Papists.  
For 'twas his Plot, and none but he contrived it,  
And he's the Rogue that ever since revived it.  
Each Prison round the Town he searches duly  
For Evidence, to recommend to Rowly.  
But takes such pains to teach each Tool its Chapter,  
As a man to make a Spaniel Dog a Setter.  
Which must impeach Bishop and Judges too,  
And all that for the K— withstand his Crew.  
The Courtiers he corrupts till they're discarded,  
Then by his Tribe for him they must be guarded.  
While he sits at the helm to guide Sedition,  
All legal Laws he counts mere Superstition.  
He sits environed round with Brother-Vipers,  
Who imitates his Nods like Scotch Bagpipers.  
Pendent and Bitter, and Mare-frigging Quaker,  
Keep time, Tony, that brave Law Bear-baiter.  
For he united them to stand together,  
'Gainst's Lawful, Loyal, or whatever  
That's direct opposition to the Crown,  
To pull the Bishop and Monarchy down.  
But he illustrates his grave Dispute,  
By acquaint Objections, coined against the D—  
'Gainst him his Bristles hath long time stood snarling,  
Yet cannot spit his poison beyond Sterling.  
Could He wrench out that Pillar of the State,  
He thinks the rest would fall in's hands by fate,  
What a graceful Noll old Tony then would make?  
Just like a Monkey he'd become the Throne,  
His Court Buffoons, and Pugs of the same Spawn.  
Then Tony would be sure that all's his own.  
Could he persuade the K— to sell his Brother,  
He'd never break his brains to find another.  
To keep Sedition, and support the State,  
Tony himself would be legitimate.  
Let's give the K— this Caution, for 'tis true,  
That he in time may know what's best to do.  
With that a thundering noise their Contract broke,  
The Den was darkened with infernal smoke.  
Horror of yells and groans the Spirits strains,  
Till on a sudden all flashed out in flames.  
In which the Conventiclers sprawling cried,  
For all Eternity must this abide?  
With that a shower of Blood fell down upon 'em,  
In which they spewed and stunk like Rebels, damn 'em▪  
For 'twas the blood of Innocents' they'd drawn,  
When they lived here, to make the King their own▪  
Some of the Heads were hanged up by the Tongues,  
The rest the Devils pitch about with Prongues.  
To make way for approaching great Procession,  
Which howled and roared without an intermission.  
Their Tongues hung out with Froth like lathering Soap,  
These were the Rabble burning of the Pope.  
'Mongst whom were Curtis, Harris, Smith and Care,  
The Scene was just like that at Temple-bar.  
Both Pope and Pageants, Jeffreys and the Friars,  
But every step knee-deep in Blood and Fires.  
Of those that did support 'em and the Rout,  
But there they roared, and here they used to shout.  
Both Squibs and Crackers from their mouths did fly,  
'Gainst Church and State they belched out Blasphemy.  
Their Skins were veiled with City-Mercuries,  
Seditious Libels and their forged Lies.  
Which taking fire at once made such a smother,  
Down fell the Pageants, Rout, and all together  
Did sprawl and howl in that infernal Flame,  
Then I awaked, and all was but a Dream.   
FINIS.